


With Time

by oh_demoted_short_one



Category: Bleach
Genre: Complete, Ichigo Never Lost His Powers, M/M, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:44:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_demoted_short_one/pseuds/oh_demoted_short_one
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Ichigo had known what his spring vacation would hold in store for him, he may've done things differently. But he hadn't, and this is what came of it. He couldn't really say it left him at all unhappy. </p>
<p>Toshiro/Ichigo, background Byakuya/Renji - Pairings in Seme/Uke order. </p>
<p>Slightly edited repost from FF.Net.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is somewhat recent; it was done sometime last year for a dear friend of mine. She can be found on FF.Net, under the name Celestia912. I don't actually ship this, but she's a big fan, so I decided to take a stab at it and citrus at the same time. I fear that the pr0ns came out better than the rest of it, which is fine. It was intended to be a PWP but then it grew a plot somewhere along the way.

Looking back on things, Ichigo was sure that if he’d been told something like this was going to happen, he’d have punched the person cleanly across the jaw and then flash stepped home laughing. Then he would dodge some kicks, hug his sisters and most likely yell at some undead-dead-living being loitering in his room, much the same as he did every day during and for some time before the official start of the war.

For now though he was content to stay right where he was, wrapped in the arms of a wonderful boyfriend. They were out by Juushiro’s pond, enjoying the slight breeze of spring while Rukia and her captain, along with Shunsui and Nanao, had tea (or sake) inside. There was a faint crashing from somewhere outside the compound, most likely Sentaro and Kiyone fighting over something or other. He gave a soft snort. Even after finally getting together last year, in the wake of the Winter War, where they’d been frantic to find each other for fear that the other was hurt, they still fought more than a couple of alley cats. The only difference now was that it ended in horribly loud making up, which had scarred more than one mind within, and on the rare occasion, without, the Thirteenth Division barracks.

At his sound, his boyfriend looked down at him, eyes straying from their place on the clouds above them. He quirked a brow and leaned down to kiss Ichigo and the orangette was able to note the scent of a certain sugary treat still lingering on his love’s breath. Leaning back so that they could look clearly at each other, he asked softly,

“And what was that about? Something amusing I hope.” His smile was white, only a few shades brighter than his hair.

Ichigo smiled back, if only a small one. That was nothing of a problem though, seeing as both of them more often than not wore a scowl upon young though furrowed features. Ichigo’s answer wasn’t soft exactly, but it lacked the general animosity or surliness that he portrayed to others.

“Just thinkin’ about how those two loudmouths got together. It took a damn war… And I was thinking about how we got together.”

His Ice Prince stared at him and blinked for a moment before smiling and stealing another kiss. Was it theft if the victim was completely willing?

”So what did you think about it? I hope it was a nice reminiscence, despite the… chaos of it all. We should’ve known that anything involving Matsumoto would turn and leave things upside down and backwards….”

Ichigo nodded his full agreement, knowing afterwards that letting Rangiku come into things tended to turn them crazier than a cat lady quite quickly. At first he’d been so pissed that she and the others involved had done something like that. It made him feel angry and a little bit trod upon, but in the end, after all the crap and all the mayhem, he’d felt warm inside. He’d actually wanted to give the busty blond a hug, maybe even say thanks…

The day started off normally enough. He’d gotten up, kicked his dad into the wall, and gone down to the Shoten. Things pretty much went downhill from there. Now Ichigo was a generally mellow guy - give him something to do, maybe some Shakespeare and he wouldn’t be in your hair. Put him in a room with not only Urahara and the kids, (Tessai usually didn’t bug him) but also Renji, Rukia, and Rangiku, and there was a reaction he was sure was chemically similar to that of exposing magnesium to oxygen… only a bit worse. Things actually did spontaneously combust a whole hell of a lot more than was normal when any of them was involved. It just seemed that no matter what, they were always causing him some sort of grief.

On that particular day, Ichigo hadn’t even had to walk into the Shoten proper to get drug into things. He’d knocked and when Tessai answered the door with a cheerful “Kurosaki-san!” in that booming way of his, Ichigo almost turned around and went back home. From behind Tessai was a clashing of familiar voices that Ichigo knew from experience meant nothing but trouble. He waved absently to the tall Kido master, choosing to lean only slightly to the left to catch a glimpse of what might’ve been going on in the other room without risking exposure and recognition. Urahara was sitting in his normal place at the table, and from behind his fan an aura of downright innocence shined. If there was one thing that spelled disaster and shouted at him to get the hell out of there, then hat-clogs playing nice was it.

As it happened, Ichigo _did_ choose to leave the place of mischief behind. Maybe he’d go home and hide under his covers. But alas, his plans were thwarted when, just as he was turning to leave, a voice called happily from the bowels of the shop,

“Kurosaki-kun! Leaving already? You haven’t even come in yet! I was so hoping to visit with you too!”

He gave a hiss and a flinch as the crashing and voices stopped ominously, and only had a few seconds to prepare himself before the side of his head was being crushed into what he had learned were the ample breasts of one Matsumoto Rangiku. 

Disturbingly, he felt more than heard her voice as she shrilled from somewhere above him, “Ichigo! How could you come by and not say hello!? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!”

It had indeed been a while since Ichigo had seen her, or anyone from the Soul Society. They were all caught up in the aftermath of the war, so he could understand why they were busy, even more than a year after the conflict had ended. What was one year to what essentially amounted to a society of immortals? He’d probably seen each of his friends, Renji, Rukia, and the others, once or twice in as many months for about a year and a half now. Of course each time had only involved one or two people. He hadn’t seen three or more Shinigami since the days right after the final showdown and even that was sketchy within his mind. It’d been touch and go, he was told, with his soul fading in and out enough to worry even Unohana. 

He didn’t remember much of those two long weeks, and what he did remember was very fuzzy and always seemed to be concealed under a veil. There were times he’d reached for Hichigo and Zangetsu but apparently he’d always come closest to fading completely when he interacted with his weak, flooded inner world. It still rather haunted him to think that his father had sat with him in the Fourth Division hospital while he was struggling to stay afloat in the recesses of his own mind.

While he quickly recollected and had the life squeezed from him by a pair of oversized… assets, the woman in possession of said assets was ranting up a storm. It was only when she’d finished this that she released Ichigo and he was able to drag in a long gasp of oxygen. He fought the urge to push away the small form wound tightly around his middle, instead letting his arm fall across her shoulders and neck, squeezing lightly in return. Rukia pulled back after a moment and smiled up at him from a nest of messy raven locks. Even though he’d seen her last month, which was only two weeks previous, he was happy to see the midget. It seemed that in the face of Aizen’s rise and fall, everyone had grown quite close; even those ones who generally refused to acknowledge the existence of their emotions, like Renji and Ichigo.

Despite this newfound intimacy, Renji hung back and once he was able, briefly gave Ichigo a firm squeeze of the shoulder. Ichigo met this with a roll of the eyes and a small grin before pulling the crimson haired fighter into a rough hug, which was reciprocated after a moment. It was a strong gesture between them, and when Ichigo pulled back, Renji had a grin matching his own. 

The redhead said with a touch of deviousness, “What gives Strawberry? Hopping out on us?”

Ichigo ignored the familiar nickname in favor of returning with a taunt of his own, “Just you Pineapple! I heard your loudmouth all the way outside!”

Renji snorted out a laugh and smacked his arm lightly, for them anyway, because it would probably have knocked Rukia right off her feet. For Ichigo and Renji it was normal, and something Ichigo had sort of been missing as of late. There was a certain camaraderie in it that had been lacking in their absence. It wasn’t something he could share with Uryu or Chad, seeing as one was entirely too effeminate to partake in such things, and the other had enough power in one arm to send him sprawling. 

He turned to look at Rukia still latched onto his side like a barnacle, then to the others before finally settling on Urahara, “So what’re all of you doing here? Last I saw, you and all of Soul Society were scrambling to get things back together.”

Rangiku sat down next to them, and still managed to come almost up to Ichigo’s chest while he was still standing. She took a sip of long cooled tea without so much as a pinch of the lips and said, “We came to see you of course! And everyone here, but we haven’t seen you in so long! We’ve come to rescue you for a spring vacation to Soul Society!”

It took a moment for her words to set in, and Ichigo was a bit struck for what to say. Did he say thanks? Refuse vehemently? Run and hide (and eventually be found)? He contemplated what she was saying; what would happen if he did or didn’t say he wanted to go?

If he chose not to go then he’d get trouble from his friends about neglecting them, end up getting angry, storm home and still have a spring vacation of boredom ahead of him. If he went with them then he’d definitely not be bored… And then Goat Face and the girls could get out of city without worrying about the house setting fire or Ichigo dying in a fantastic manner. A thought occurred then and Ichigo asked about the concern, “What about the town? Who’ll kill the hollows? We can’t expect the others to take care of it. They have lives.”

Rukia looked about to say something before Urahara waved a hand, his fan sweeping through the air, “We’ll take care of the town for you Kurosaki-kun! Think of it as a gift from us!” 

His voice was tinged with an innocence that automatically made Ichigo wary. With Urahara things tended to explode, or otherwise the situation was disfigured in some other nearly irreparable way. At least if anything happened to the house, Ichigo knew his father had no qualms hunting down his old friend. 

He came back to himself in time to see Rukia jump at Renji for some reason or another, and choosing to ignore it, he said, “Okay. Thanks.” 

The room fell silent. Even Urahara was staring at him like he’d grown a second head. He gained composure quickly and hid once more behind his fan, even though they could all tell he was grinning like a mad hatter.

“It’s my pleasure Kurosaki-kun! I live to serve!”

Ichigo gave a half nod in return and then he was being squished again, this time both members of the Women’s Shinigami Association, one at his waist and one at his shoulders.

He faintly heard something said, and there was a gasp and then Rukia was gone. He turned as much as he could away from the bosom blocking his sight to look around for the cause of Rukia’s reaction. With a loud, “Get your boobs out of my face!” and a mighty push, Ichigo was finally able to separate himself and get back to his feet. Standing in the room’s doorway were none other than Kuchiki Byakuya and Hitsugaya Toshiro, of Squads Six and Ten respectively.

Both men were staring impassively at the scene, and Ichigo was sure that winter had ended but the cold glare Toshiro was sending Rangiku could probably have frozen a ball of fire. Ichigo stepped to the side a bit to make sure it wasn’t really being aimed at him and to get a better look at the two males. Well, Byakuya was about the same as before, pale and composed, but there was a different look in his eye than Ichigo remembered and a peripheral glance told him that Renji was by his side. So the look was at him then! He idly wondered just what was going on between the taicho and fukutaicho but decided that he didn’t want to know right now. He had better things to look at, and possibly being scarred for life was not on his to-do list for the day.

Instead of pondering his friend’s possible love life, Ichigo turned his attentions to the shorter of the two. As he looked, he noticed with a shock that Toshiro was taller now, just a few inches shorter than Byakuya. That meant the once little squirt was just about taller than him. Damn. That was going to make things… difficult.

Belatedly realizing that he was staring, and not noticing the knowing looks passed between Renji and Byakuya, and Rukia and Rangiku, Ichigo finally decided to say something, if only to break the silence permeating the normally noisy Shoten. It was almost like the only one _not_ plotting something was Urahara.

“Err… Byakuya, Toshiro! What’re you guys doing here?” he asked in a boisterous voice, trying to detract from the attention that might’ve been on the pink tinting his cheeks and neck.

As it seemed to him that Toshiro wouldn’t be thinking for the next few minutes at the very least, Byakuya chose to explain, “We have come to collect you. You were meant to be in Soul Society by now.”

While Byakuya turned a scolding look on Rangiku, who at least had the decency to look embarrassed, Ichigo rounded on Rukia, “What?! When exactly did you guys get here?”

Rukia scoffed lightly, jabbing a thumb in Rangiku’s direction, “Rangiku decided that we needed to go shopping and wouldn’t let us come without her. We actually got here last night.”

Ichigo released a heavy sigh and tried to ignore Rangiku’s sudden whining. He turned away and went towards the door, passing by the two captains as Rukia called after him, asking him where he was going. Without turning or stopping he called back, “I’ve got to pack tell Goat Face I’m gonna be gone for a while. They’re going on a trip tomorrow.”

It was only when he was a block away from the shop that Ichigo put enough distance between himself and his thoughts to notice people trailing behind him. Turning with a frown, he spied both Byakuya and Renji stopping as he did. There was an impatience radiating from Renji, though Byakuya was surrounded by an aura of cold and calm, per usual. It was different from the piercing cold of Toshiro, who was standing behind the two men.

“What the hell’re you following me for?” he asked, risking the stares of the few people in town who had yet to encounter the strangeness of any member of the Kurosaki Clan. Long used to it, Ichigo continued glaring until he got an answer.

“We’re following you to make sure you pack up quickly. We’ve got things to do besides wait for you ya know!” Renji replied in a growl when it became clear that neither captain was going to deign to answer the boy.

Ichigo turned back around with a huff and continued, knowing from experience that they wouldn’t have given up until he’d done as they bid.

There was a certain amount of anxiety in introducing anyone to his family. There was rarely anything to worry about with Yuzu, since she was about as close to an angel as a little girl could get, but with Karin and his father…? Karin was also good… most of the time. There were some who were slighted by her cool attitude, as he expected Byakuya would be, but there wasn’t much to do about that. His real worry was about his father and his destructive ways. From what he knew of his father’s time as a soul reaper, which was still seriously limited, Byakuya was still pretty young when they’d last met. He’d been about to take over the Kuchiki family, and not yet a captain. Captaincy was the last step before that. He was actually kind of curious to see if they remembered each other.

They passed by the admittance section of the clinic and went around the building’s side, entering the hall that connected the clinic and house together without having to go through. They had taken a few steps when Karin came out of the kitchen with a juice box, her other hand in her pocket. She surveyed them for a moment then said drily, “Hey, Ichigo-nii, Renji, Toshiro. Captain. Nice to meet ya.” 

With that simple greeting, Karin turned and went back into the kitchen, presumably to inform her sister that they had company. A few seconds later, Yuzu came out, her apron covering her after normal attire. 

“Welcome back Ichi-nii! Hello Renji-san, Toshiro-kun! Hello Mr. Captain-san! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” she said enthusiastically, smiling brightly and bowing in greeting.

Her eagerness, it seemed, was catchy, because Ichigo gave her a hug and smiled down at her, and as Karin came back to stand at his side, he gave her a side long hug as well. Renji smiled and gave a light, “Hi guys,” as Ichigo explained, “Byakuya, these’re my younger sisters Yuzu and Karin. If you need anything, Yuzu’s the one to see. And Karin can take care of anything you need smashed or trashed.”

Byakuya seemed to accept this, despite appearing put out at Ichigo’s continued disregard for his title as captain or head of a house, and nodded his understanding.

The nice introductions were short lived, with no chance to become awkward because, at that moment or perhaps a few heartbeats later, an ostentatiously colored blur down the stairs behind Ichigo, yelling his name, necessitating that Ichigo turn around in order to kick the intruding form. The “it”, as it turned out, was one Kurosaki Isshin.

As Isshin pulled himself off the floor and partially out of the wall, it appeared to dawn on him that he had guests. Of course he had met Toshiro and Renji already, but there was also a new member to the group gathered in his foyer. Instead of become riled up as he would with the arrival of most any other person into his home, Isshin’s features instead became quite stoic, and his visage was a rare one of seriousness. This was the strange man Ichigo had fought with against Aizen, and the same who had faced Grand Fischer. 

Byakuya didn’t seem to believe that this colorful and exuberant man could have been a member of the 13 Squads, let alone part of the elite Squad 0. That was a rank higher than even that of captain - how could this man have achieved something such as that?

As if he were reading Byakuya’s thoughts, Isshin pulled himself to his full height and stepped forward. He was serious, ignored the fact that his nose was bloody, that he was wearing an orange and pink paisley shirt, and that his pants, while having once been a respectable sharp looking pair of white slacks, now had red and pink hearts strewn across them, professing their love to and for one another.

With an appraising eye, Isshin gave Byakuya a once over, and then, with an approving sound said, “It’s been quite a long time since we last saw each other, eh Kuchiki-san?”

Byakuya raised an eyebrow elegantly, as though he didn’t know how else one might do so, and stated calmly, “I am sorry, Kurosaki-san. I do not believe we have… met.”

Isshin changed once again, throwing his head back in a long, deep, laugh, and without further ado, clapped Byakuya on the shoulder as if he were an old buddy.

“Oh, Byakuya! You were very small when I saw you last! You’d barely started training to one day take over the clan! I can’t say I like this serious Byakuya as much! You were so fun then, always following Yoruichi around!”

A scowl found its way onto Byakuya’s face at the unexpected contact, and his eyes widened with the comprehension of what the older man had said. Just how old was this man?! Was he not a mortal after all?

Isshin laughed again, explaining to the group, including his still quite clueless children, “I was in Soul Society for a number of centuries before coming here and fighting Grand Fischer. I did know Byakuya, if not for very long…”

They all stared at him. If what he said was true, then he was very old indeed. And if he had his powers back, then he had his longevity back… Ichigo asked dumbly after a long moment of shocked silence, “If you’ve got your powers back, and won’t ‘die’ for a long time, and I have those powers too, will I ‘die’ still?”

Isshin shook his head happily, chirping, “Nope! Well, your body’ll die, but your consciousness won’t. You’ll just go back to Soul Society as a Shinigami.”

Ichigo heaved a sigh of relief. That had been a fear of his - dying as a human, being konso’ed, and not remembering anything or anyone he’d found in the Soul Society.

Shaking his head to dispel the remaining thoughts about that, Ichigo turned and went upstairs to pack, leaving the task of telling his family of the plans to two captains and a lieutenant. Somehow he still doubted that things would go smoothly.

 

When Ichigo came back downstairs, bogged down by only two bags, his backpack (containing his damned spring homework), and one orange lion plush, strangely still and silent, it was to find everyone calmly drinking tea in the living room. What the hell had been done to his family!? Where _was_ his family!?

There seemed to be no need to ask, or opportunity to for that matter, because as Renji, Toshiro, and Byakuya stood up and made their way to the door, Ichigo was pulled into some sort of Kurosaki four way hug. He was then shoved out the door, bags and all. Of course he eventually came to his senses, but by that time, they’d made it almost back to the Shoten.

It was mostly silent in the shop, meaning that the kids and Tessai were out and that Ichigo’s friends had gone on to Soul Society already. It was either that or everyone was dead. Either was possible, if improbable. They went downstairs and found Urahara sitting on a rock by the senkaimon. He welcomed them with a cheerful tone, and then proceeded to open the gate.

While Urahara did this, Ichigo set his bags down and popped a small marble looking pill into his mouth. Instantly he was ejected from his body, and was witness to the momentary fury of the mod soul inhabiting it. The mod sputtered in a funny manner and then sat down heavily on the spot, glaring at the smiling soul in front of him. Despite their rather opposite personalities, they saw eye to eye on a good number of things. One such subject was the protection of family, and Ichigo’s family, after so long, was as good as Kon’s as well. That wasn’t going to stop him being cranky about it.

“What gives?! I was so comfy hiding from your devil of a little sister and the next thing I know I’m being pried from my own body and shoved into this one! I’m not a toy you can use just like that!”

Ichigo quickly shut him up, and explained the short notice he’d received as well. Kon stared at him for a long time, then finally sighed and nodded. That’d been surprisingly easy; Ichigo had at least expected a fight about being left behind. He tossed aside the idea of asking why he’d been given a reprieve, choosing not to look the gift horse in the mouth. Instead he gave Kon a small smile, small, but true. And once he got past his shock, Kon smiled back, a big goofy grin that on Ichigo’s body made him look his tender age.

Then Kon was leaping at him in some sort of flying hug, something usually only reserved for Rukia or someone similarly -or more- well endowed of the fairer gender. Before anything could come of it, Ichigo found himself being pushed back by a cane he knew concealed a wicked deadly blade, and Kon was pulled back by his shirt collar. Urahara waved happily at him as he turned towards the senkaimon, where a hell butterfly awaited him, for once. As he entered the pathway with Byakuya and Toshiro ahead of him and Renji behind, Ichigo wondered just what would happen to him this time, surrounded by Shinigami who seemed to take joy from messing with his life.

The first thing that happened upon arrival to the Soul Society was a trip the 1st Squad for a welcome. It was probably unnecessary, but the Soutaicho greeted him and then sent Ichigo on his way. He would be staying in each of the squads for a night each during his nearly two week stay. It appeared that this was also something of an informal intro to the various squads for the time when Ichigo met his mortal life’s end. Once more Ichigo was the odd case out, and upon his death, would be trained within his squad rather than within the Academy. He’d begun some learning of Kido some time before, during one of the random times he’d found himself training with Urahara, Yoruichi, or on the rare occasion Kukaku. That had, at first, quite literally blown up in his face. He’d eventually gotten the hang of it, but still had little true knowledge to work with.

That day and the next two were boring, if Soul Society could ever be considered that. Mostly he’d spent the time during tours and escaping Kenpachi. It was actually most of that week that had been nothing interesting, being ferried from one place or another and changing hands like so much money. The last day was the most exciting by far, if only because the collar he’d packed to wear had been commandeered by Komamura and hailed as the gift of the year for his dog. Ichigo had the sneaking suspicion that it was only the first in a number of odd occurrences.

His next day, number eight, as well as number nine, were spent predominantly indoors, with not only Shunsui but Shuhei as well trying to get him drunk, nevermind that he was underage. Thank God he’d survived. The real surprise was yet to come.

For some odd reason he felt nervous about his stay at the 10th Division. A flash of relief flooded him when it was just Rangiku that came to get him from the 9th. It really shouldn’t have been such a positive reaction, and instead should have been a well earned sense of dread. But how was Ichigo to know that the insane blond was hell bent on taking him to the spa and making him over?

When asked just what the hell she was doing dragging him to a spa, Rangiku said cheerfully, “I’m making you relax! All those different squads must’ve tired you out!”

Despite trying to vehemently and then in progressively weaker forms of persuasion that no, Ichigo didn’t need to relax, and yes he was fine, and no, he wasn’t in need of this, there was just no way out of it aside from chewing his own arm off. And he liked that arm. It was his sword arm. With Rangiku bogging him down and not wanting to resort to force, Ichigo let it happen. It wasn’t like it would hurt, right?

It turned out that Ichigo’s fears were unfounded. He didn’t know if it was something in the water or just the water itself, but he found himself doing something akin to melting into the hot springs. There was a giggle from across the other side of the pool of water and Ichigo opened one eye - when had he closed those? - to notice the smug quirk to Rangiku’s lips. It gave him the faint urge to frown, or scowl, but he really couldn’t muster up the energy to when he was so utterly relaxed. Choosing to ignore her instead, Ichigo didn’t move until all his limbs were like jelly and the skin on his fingers and toes was all wrinkled.

They returned to the squad barracks in the middle of the day’s transition from afternoon to evening, signified by the lightening sky, evening out into a mosaic of dusty pinks and oranges and purples. It would’ve been wonderful to see, and would’ve furthered Ichigo’s state of serenity if it weren’t for the greeting that met them as they rounded the bend into the 10th Squad courtyard.

“Where is he? I will see him!” The voice was high pitched for a male, and there was a certain creak in it that sent a shiver through those that heard it.

“That’s not going to happen, Kurotuchi! I, and the other captains too, were afraid you’d do this. You aren’t going to experiment on him! He’s a friend to us, not a lab rat!” This voice was high as well, but with youth, anger, and authority.

“We could learn so much from him! He is Hollow and Shinigami and you don’t see the potential power held there?! Friend or not, that boy is of use! I will have him!”

Growling, Ichigo stepped around the corner to cut off what Toshiro had been about to say with his own angry words, “And why the hell would I let you do that? I’d die before letting you near me!”

It was slightly gratifying to see the shock settle on both faces, but Mayuri was quick to recover, spitting venomously, “You have no idea what you’re saying boy!”

Suddenly others were there, Ukitake and Shunsui framing his sides and Byakuya standing closely in front of him.

“Captain Kurotsuchi, I suggest you go back to Squad 12. Ichigo will stay here for another night with Squad 10, which I’m sure he has no problem with,” Ukitake said firmly, stepping forward to place a hand on Ichigo’s shoulder. Ichigo glanced between them and nodded just as firmly. Mayuri was shaking with anger, but left nonetheless, hissing that things weren’t over.

With the intruder gone, Ichigo was able to relax and turn to ask the captains what they were doing. The answer was simple and blunt, “We’ve seen this kind of trouble with Mayuri before,” Ukitake explained, “You are not the first young man to garner his scientific interest,” he glanced at Toshiro and continued, “But he is a brilliant scientist and capable fighter. He is a good captain, even for all of his drawbacks.”

Ichigo nodded dimly and looked at each of them, “Thanks guys. Good to know you’ve got my back.” They nodded to him in acknowledgement, and with the exception of Byakuya, smiled at both he and Toshiro before taking their leave.

The silence left in their wake was an awkward one, for neither Toshiro nor Ichigo knew what to do or say. Luckily, a blond mass of black shihakusho and soft flesh came barreling into Ichigo, exclaiming, “Aww! Ichigo you’re frowning again! I wish the Captain could’ve seen you smiling! He likes your smile!”

Ichigo looked back at Toshiro just in time to see a fierce blush rise on his cheeks and a squeaked out, “Rangiku!!” and it made him smile. And then the blush got worse, but it was accompanied by Ichigo’s own blossom of pink cheeks, for their eyes had made the foolish decision to meet.

Soon enough they found themselves inside, eating, and each time their eyes met they blushed, mostly for no apparent reason at all. That night they went to bed after rushed farewells and wishes of good dreams. Strange enough, or mayhap not strange at all, both of them were unable to gain much rest that night, and when they finally did it was of smiles, blushing cheeks and hair in shades of pearl white and fiery oranges. Neither knew just how eventful the next day would be for them both.

They woke up later than usual and showered and dressed hastily. When they rushed to the dining room it was at a run to get there, only to find the other coming just as quickly from the opposite direction. They immediately slowed down and composed themselves, exchanging awkward words of greeting and making stilted small talk.

They spent some time speaking over breakfast, and the resident workaholic actually sat down and ate. It was something so rare that most people were staring and some were contemplating taking pictures to commemorate.

Rangiku popped by just as they were finishing, a load of papers about two feet tall stacked precariously in her arms. Setting it down, she sighed heavily, “I hope you thank me for this later Captain! I hate doing paperwork, but I did it just for you! Have fun with Ichigo!” With that, and without giving them a chance to say anything, she lifted the stack as though it weighed nothing and rushed off, leaving the two males to stare after her in amazement.

Once they’d finally amassed enough cognitive thought from the various places it’d been scattered to upon seeing Rangiku with completed paperwork in hand, they left the hall to spend their now free day elsewhere. They walked outside and admired the blossoms blooming and sakura petals floating all around. At one point the pair encountered Ukitake, and surprised him with smiles bright as day. Ukitake left them smiling widely, heart a bit more cheerful, and without trying to give Toshiro enough candy to feed Yachiru in an attempt to make him smile. Ichigo had done a wonderful job already.

After their encounter with Ukitake, the males wandered to one of the ponds within the barracks and sat beside it, speaking of things both trivial and serious. They fell into silence after a time and just enjoyed the nice afternoon weather and each other’s company. Toshiro turned to say something to Ichigo but sat a bit taller and took on a more serious visage when a hell butterfly fluttered their way. Ichigo looked at him and then behind himself curiously, also stiffening at the sight of the ebony swallowtail.

They waited patiently and listened to the message that was there for them. Apparently Byakuya wanted them both to come to the third warehouse in the 6th Division compound. They left immediately and made good time, finding Renji and Rangiku waiting there. The pair was smiling widely, something which turned Ichigo and Toshiro uneasy.

“Finally! Come on, we’re going on a mission!” Renji said happily, something odd, and lead them through the warehouse past various doors.

“Uh… Renji, where’s Byakuya? He’s the one that called us,” Ichigo asked lamely as they turned a corner.

A presence made itself known in front of them then in the form of Byakuya walking out of a room, tucking a small something or other back into his haori.

“I am right here, Kurosaki. Hitsugaya Taicho, Kurosaki, please,” Byakuya said with a wave of a hand to the open doorway behind him.

After a glance at the others and then each other, Ichigo and Toshiro entered the dim room. Neither had been lead astray by Byakuya before, and had no real reason to think they were now. The room was slightly dark, but there were silhouettes indicative of a few pieces of what looked like furniture strewn around the sparse space. It was as they took a few steps into the room cautiously that the door closed firmly behind them and the tell tale sound of a lock clicking in place could be heard. Panicked, they ran to the door but were unable to budge it. Toshiro allowed his reiatsu to rise in an attempt to blast it open, but found instead something strange happening. 

Instead of blasting out the door as he’d hoped, the reiatsu wound into the air, faintly visible as light blue curls. Frowning at the wayward energy, Toshiro tried again, met only with the same phenomenon. He didn’t notice Ichigo near him, focused on the twists instead. Ichigo was frowning at the door, as well as at the tendrils of reiatsu in the air. They didn’t feel at all bad when they touched him, rather pleasant actually, but it was also an awkward feeling. They felt like they were latching onto him a bit; sticking to him and leaving impressions upon his energy as well. The sensation was like an all over touch, soft and left his skin tingling.

Deciding when Toshiro backed away from the door to try it himself, Ichigo let the loose control he had over his reiatsu fall away. There was an almost immediate heating in the air, like the static charge before a storm. As well as that, red and black tendrils drifted about, swirling with the icy blue fluttering in the air. Seeing this, Ichigo pulled back his energy, though for some reason he found himself loathe to do so. A voice came from the other side of the door when he tried the knob, and it said with a laugh, 

“Poundin’ on the door isn’t gonna work, Strawberry! I’d try blasting my way out with my reiatsu if I were you; that’ll probably get you somewhere!” a voice on the other side of the door said with a deep laugh, soon followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.

Ichigo was confused, very much so. He wondered what Renji, and it was obviously that pineapple headed idiot, meant when he made such a challenge. Ichigo had already tried to get rid of the door with his spiritual pressure, and it hadn’t done anything. Curious, Ichigo tried releasing his reiatsu again. As before, it became visible, though almost intangible, and the red and black whirled around, but somehow never managed to eclipse the icy wisps that represented Toshiro’s own life force.

It was only when a sound came from behind him that Ichigo halted his bombardment of the air. He turned around quickly, and the sight made his scowl drop into a look of shock. Toshiro was across the room, heavily leaning back against the wall. His face was drawn, and sweat was beading his brow. The energies that were in the air were gathered around him somewhat, condensed in a way that suggested that he was some sort of magnet for them. Ichigo let out a gasping breath of his own as he caught sight of Toshiro’s eyes through the swarm of energy. They were the sharpest blue green he’d ever seen, but they were glazed over in a way he was wary to contemplate. It was dangerous, for a few reasons, the least of which not being that there was no apparent escape from this room anytime soon. If Ichigo kept studying that look, then he’d find himself with a… sizeable problem that would make sure he’d need a little ‘escape’ of his own soon after its appearance.

He made his way over cautiously, asking as he got within reaching range of the other, “Toshiro… Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

The reply was not one he expected. He was suddenly yanked forward, and the next moment he was being crushed to the wall by a figure only a few scant inches taller than himself. Ichigo idly cursed the damn growth spurt that had taken over Toshiro’s frame in so short a time since they’d last seen each other. 

That train of thought was promptly derailed; cast aside as he refocused his attention on the white haired being holding him by his shoulders. Toshiro’s voice was rougher than Ichigo expected; heavier, like he’d just been running for an extended period of time. 

“Ichigo!” The other youth uttered roughly, and then Ichigo was being kissed. It wasn’t anything gentle and soft either, but hard and none too pleasant. Well it was like that for all of two seconds before Toshiro let loose his own reiatsu. The energy seemed to both cut swathes through Ichigo’s and simultaneously pulled it closer, cloaking the two in a black, red, and silver blue mass. It touched Ichigo’s skin in smooth movements, tingling caresses, and each one pulled a muffled, startled sound from him.

As far as the reiatsu was touching his skin, it also had another effect. There was a heat to the coils, both burning hot and cold and it seemed to put deeper pressure wherever it touched. The force was deep and went far past skin and muscle. It hit his nerves directly, lighting them up like fireworks all along his limbs. He hadn’t even noticed the ever closing distance between Toshiro and himself until their lips touched again. At that point, during that second kiss, their energies meshed together, triggering the both of them to groan out their approval.

Hands wound tightly into his hair and pulled him closer, and he threaded his through white locks in reply. There was a tentative lick at Ichigo’s lips and soon they were locked in a battle for dominance. It was short lived, as a leg knitted in between his own and pushed just as the pressure bore down on his own energy and skin from Toshiro.

With his opportunity given, Toshio took to exploring the strawberry’s mouth. He coaxed Ichigo’s tongue to again dance with his own and alternated between grinding his thigh at the apex of Ichigo’s legs and applying pressure on him with his reiatsu.

It was all too much. Ichigo was a young adolescent male, which as a collective weren’t really known for their stamina. Add in the pure push of energy against his own, and Ichigo came undone. He released with a cry, head tilting back with a dull thunk against the wall. He shivered in aftershocks at the strange sticky feeling of his pants now, bound as they were to his skin by Toshiro still pushed up hard against him.

After that, Ichigo didn’t really come back to himself in a wholly conscious way. It was as though a haze fell over his mind, leading him into a realm of nothing but feeling. Toshiro was still supporting him against the wall, and was for the most part unmoving. His head was lolled back on his shoulders, eyes shut tightly. He breathed heavily for a long moment, appearing as though he were trying to get a grip on himself, and once he had accomplished that, he continued his assault, though now more languidly than before. Ichigo watched as icy eyes cracked open, met his, and then closed once more in further pleasure.

They kissed for a long while until, with a gasp from Ichigo, Toshiro pulled his collar aside to bare his neck, latching onto the tan skin. Using the loosened cloth as a guide, Toshiro pulled back from Ichigo, and then released the top so that it could be pushed fully away from the orangette’s shoulders. He moved backwards, pulling Ichigo with him by his waist. Ichigo nearly stumbled in his haste to follow, and they eventually crossed the space and fell onto the bed. 

Ichigo promptly found himself being flipped over onto his back, Toshiro crouched over him in such a way as to easily make his path to Ichigo’s chest from his neck at his leisure. He peppered Ichigo with butterfly kisses and scorching marks both until, at last, he clamped down on a hardened nipple.

The young Visored let out a moan and threaded his hands tightly into Toshiro’s hair, gasping out his name in a needy plea. It seemed that even without knowing himself what he wanted, Toshiro was able to make sense of his wordless utterings. He moved to the sibling of the now red bud, toying with it with his fingers to cause a litany of breathy gasps and breathings of his name to cross his love’s lips. Finally, able to bear th sweet torture no longer, Toshiro shifted once more down Ichigo’s body in a trail of long and lingering licks.

At the sight of it, Toshiro plunged his tongue into Ichigo’s navel, gazing upwards as he did so. Ichigo looked back at him with eyes blazing the color of a melted caramel in their lust. His hand tugged from its place in Toshiro’s hair, yanking him up for another kiss while its owner set to work getting rid of Toshiro’s top.

Sensing his newfound lover’s growing impatience, Toshiro took his own place, hastily undoing the pants that separated him from all of Ichigo. As they were pressed down Ichigo’s tan hips, his member finally achieved freedom, and sprung from its confinement. Throwing the coverings aside Toshiro took a look at all of Ichigo, laid out before him. He was tanned all over, but at present was flushed a pleasant pink, centered especially on his cheeks and lips, and around his nipples, which were swollen and tender from the treatment they’d received.

Ichigo was slightly shorter than Toshiro, but lying like this, it wasn’t really noticeable. There was a much larger focus on the lean muscle cast on the long limbs and torso his eyes trailed across. 

Reverently, Toshiro caressed a long line down Ichigo’s chest, reveling in the way he turned his head into the pillow with a breathy sigh as a nipple was pinched harshly.

The reaction to this was a murmured, “Beautiful…” and a hand came close to run along the orange dust trail going down between Ichigo’s legs to settle very, very close to base of the organ there.

An equally quiet plea, “Pleassse… Toshiro…!” was all that was required to spur the captain into action. His grip was firm but gentle and the strokes were long, setting the member to pulsing with the blood rushing in and out in waves. The flesh was still a bit wet from its earlier release; Ichigo cried out soundly with the movement, and couldn’t help the way he bucked up into the hand wrapped around him.

Looking around vaguely, Toshiro’s eyes both darkened a bit more and lit up at the item sitting innocently enough on the right nightstand. Upon closer inspection it was revealed to be exactly as Toshiro had hoped, if not of a bit of an odd variety. The small tube was labeled simply, and when the cap was opened, a perplexing aroma wafted up. It was the scent of cherry blooms - sakura blossoms.

Casting needless thoughts of the source of it away for later, he coated his fingers in the substance. Then, making sure that Ichigo’s mind was otherwise distracted by his skilled hand, Toshiro slipped a finger back to trace the younger man’s entrance. There was little reaction other than for brown eyes to meet Toshiro’s with a small shudder. It was not an unpleasant feeling, but certainly a strange one. Slipping in and out a few times was all that occurred before Ichigo began pushing back against the intrusion lightly. It was taken as a sign that he was relaxed, and another finger prodded him. The addition was the cause of a small sting, and Ichigo let it be known through a dull groan, but it was nothing in the face of the pleasure meeting him from all other points as their reiatsu tangled and wound together. The very edge of pain even heightened the pleasure, and had him rocking back a bit more.

They continued their fairly slow rhythm for a time, until without much warning, Ichigo arched in a painful looking way, but moaned long and hard, and was sent careening right into another mind blowing orgasm. Toshiro stroked him through it, quickly rehardening the young man’s cock with firm touches and soft words. 

Smiling quickly, Toshiro repeated his actions and got a similar reaction, though he made sure to curb the pleasure with a firm hold of the base of Ichigo’s third burgeoning erection. No need to tire him out before the real fun began. Soon after, a third finger was brought into play and the only sounds were the approving noises Ichigo gave up.

As his tether reached its end, Toshiro removed himself from Ichigo’s body and kissed away the pathetic whine that told him Ichigo’s feelings on the subject. Using a bit more of the slick gel and kissing Ichigo while moving his hands slowly, utterly slowly on both of them, Toshiro coated himself and brought his own freed member to almost meet Ichigo’s body.

Their eyes met, one set clearly teetering on the edge of losing conscious thought to the sheer lust coursing through the air while the other was also lustful, though still within reach of his faculties. They shared a languid kiss that was nothing like the rushed brushes and clashes of lips they’d experienced against the wall, and Toshiro pushed gently forward.

The air thrummed with their passion, and dare it be said - love. There was little movement for the longest time save for the movements that brought them as close as was humanly possible and the gentle shifts and pulses of the streams of energy still visible through the air around them.

As they brought their kiss to an end, Ichigo turned slightly away with a hiss of discomfort. He moved in small amounts, murmuring out hotly, “’Shiro…just move!!”

With a nod, Toshiro acquiesced. There was something about the way that Ichigo said his name, especially a familiar shortened version of it. Either way, it sent Toshiro very nearly into a frenzy, to just give in to anything that was asked for by those petal soft lips.

He started with a slow pace, doing little more than rocking into Ichigo in a barebones rhythm. As moments passed he went faster, moving in long, steady motions against Ichigo, who was breathing heavily, eyes screwed shut, hands clenched tightly at Toshiro’s shoulders. It was when he pushed back roughly, eyes opening to stare up at Toshiro’s, that the white haired male really began moving.

With a long hiss, Toshiro went faster, urged on by the legs vice gripping around his hips to pull him in deeper, pulling Ichigo closer with each deliberate thrust. They met each other with gasps and moans, and then Ichigo was arching upwards again, back bowed tightly. He began pushing back against Toshiro more solidly, his voice coming out in little more strangled sounds and unintelligible words, though to Toshiro they may well’ve been the most exquisite aphrodisiac ever known.

They did not last long; couldn’t last long in such a state, and Toshiro could feel the building within them. With this knowledge he reached between their twisted bodies and within a caress or two Ichigo was sent into blissful oblivion, his seed coating Toshiro’s hand and both of their torsos, they were so close together. 

His voice carried through the room and reiatsu poured off of him in loads, stringing through the spaces in between and painting the very air Toshiro breathed with their emotions. That was his undoing, as it had been from the very start. The pressure was pushing on and literally into him, as he did to Ichigo, and the tight heat he was ensconced by and sheer feel of Ichigo writhing beneath him was enrapturing. He felt himself wavering within Ichigo and called his name in his own surrender to a small death.

Afterwards they lay tightly embraced, still connected both in body and reiatsu. With a soft sigh, Toshiro pulled out of Ichigo with care, and stroked his sides to soothe back the soft whine that it caused. He then pulled Ichigo against him, shifting them so that they lay on the pillows. He pulled the long since rumpled covers over them and he kissed Ichigo’s sleeping brow before falling into an exhausted slumber himself.

 

Across the barracks a knock came to the office door of one Kuchiki Byakuya. He gave a solemn, “Enter.” And in walked none other than his fukutaicho, Abarai Renji. The red haired man bowed and when he rose, the grin on his face was most apparent.

“Well the plan worked Taicho! Kurotsuchi got to try his invention on people with high reiatsu, no one got hurt, and we got Ichigo and Hitsugaya Taicho together! Just like you said!”

Byakuya nodded from where he was doing his work. He looked up after signing the report in front of him, standing to walk around his desk. When he was near, Byakuya reached for Renji’s hand, and giving a small smile, barely a lift of at the corners of the mouth, said, “Yes, just as I said. They will do well together, I believe. I hope that they were able to make good use of my… gift.”

Renji’s smile grew and he leaned forward for a kiss, which Byakuya allowed. They stood like that for a moment before separating. It seemed that they had some reacquainting to do of their own.

Ichigo came back to himself eventually and found that he was still lying in Toshiro’s arms. He looked up to his love as he drew his hand through Ichigo’s hair, earning a smile from the orangette.

“I remember you wouldn’t talk to me for almost a week after that first time. I had to force you to face things, and me.”

Toshiro had the sense to blush lightly and it gave him a rosy look as he grumbled, “Well, I completely lost control. I was mortified…”

Ichigo smiled and replied, “Well we both did. How could we not? Mayuri’s… thing pulled our reiatsu out and made it tangible,” his tone turned slightly smug, “Who knew just my spiritual pressure could get you so riled up.”

Toshiro’s blush brightened considerably at that and Ichigo continued when no reply came, “And you couldn’t look Byakuya in the eye for so long! I hope you eventually thanked him!”

That was the final straw for Toshiro, whose cheeks were attempting to turn an interesting shade of red somewhere between beet and maroon, “We still use the same kind of lube don’t we!? I hate how he _knows_ we love it!”

Chuckling, Ichigo sat up to put his arms around his pouting boyfriend and kiss him gently. As they broke apart he whispered softly, “I’m glad he knows. Means he cares, in his own stick-up-the-ass way…”

“I do not have anything shoved up my ass, thank you. That would be my husband,” a deep voice intoned calmly if suddenly from behind them. 

Speak of the devil… Both males startled and looked up at Byakuya, who although not smiling, had a quirk to his lips and a small twinkle to his eye. His husband was, of course, glaring at him from behind him, though he didn’t seem nearly as demure as Toshiro about such things.

They smiled at him as he sat down, and for the rest of the day they were able to relax. They all eventually retired for the night and the next day, whenever someone visited either home or any of the four men, they were met with the gentle, though unseasonal, scent of cherry blossoms.


End file.
